


Ventress and Her Studly Muffin

by spikala



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9458291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikala/pseuds/spikala
Summary: Originally written for the "A Spy Story" challenge by FFN's Queen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the "A Spy Story" challenge by FFN's Queen.

“The name’s Muffin. Studly Muffin.”

Ventress raised an eyebrow. “You _must_ be joking.” Before her, stood the weediest specimen of humanity she’d ever seen. A stiff breeze would blow him over. A far cry from the hulking males of Dathomir, Muffin was tall, gangly and had brown hair that stuck up in tufts. The only thing that hinted at his name was his deep tan.

He shrugged. “My parents were cruel people. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

She turned back to the mysterious Intelligence man, Z, ignoring Muffin’s outstretched hand. “Please tell me this isn’t my partner for the mission.”

Z shook his head. “Muffin is the best slicer we’ve got and a damn good pilot to boot. He’s there to get you in, verify the datachip and get you both out.

Ventress opened her mouth to protest again, but he cut her off brusquely. “This is non-negotiable. Muffin will brief you on the finer details.” He slipped from the room, managing to stay in the shadows the whole time and leaving her none the wiser as to his identity.

Forty minutes later, Ventress’s head was reeling with all the details and gadgetry that Muffin deemed necessary to the success of the mission. The simple datachip retrieval that Z had painted for her earlier when he’d recruited her was far from simple. Muffin had thought of everything from her cover (“You’re standing in for an emissary from the Nightsisters, and no, they won’t know you’re a plant. We’ve arranged for the real one to have, er, ‘Customs delays’.”) to how they were to infiltrate the gathering. He’d even thought of weaponry.

“No lightsabers.”

Her grip tightened on the hilts. “That’s not negotiable, Muffin.”

“Please, call me Studly.”

She eyed him and he sighed. “It was worth a shot. Anyway, Nightsisters don’t have lightsabers. What I _do_ have for you is this.” He produced a miniscule blaster that looked more like a child’s plaything than a weapon.

“A toy.”

“No. It’s the Noisy Cricket. If you’re going for stopping power and concealment, you won’t find better. Trust me, I know—I designed her.” He looked very proud of that fact as he handed over the Cricket.

Ventress hefted it experimentally and wasn’t impressed. Sure it could fit almost anywhere, but still... She aimed at the dilapidated desk in the shabby room and pulled the trigger.

Once the smoke had cleared and Ventress gotten back up, the briefing continued. Sans desk.

* * *

 

Her Studly Muffin was twitchy. It was getting annoying and was bound to give the game away.

Ventress wrapped up her conversation with their contact, Tre Lonsil, and headed back from the buffet table, plate in one hand and the precious datachip in the other. Muffin was standing beside an elegant crystal pillar, his hair slicked down and chewing on his thumbnail. The tuxedo had done marvels for hiding his gangly frame and he almost looked like he belonged amongst these pampered, soft beings of privilege where tuxedos were de rigueur. 

As she approached, he hissed. “Did you get it?”

Ventress switched the plate from one hand to the other, buying time to palm him the chip. He in turn, under the pretence of straightening his cuffs, slipped the chip into his wrist reader. Ventress made a start on the canapés as Muffin ran through the data. She was half-way through a particularly delicious fritter adorned with a dollop of dianoga cheese when he nodded.

“It’s all here. Time to go.”

They were in front of the double doors when it all went south. The doors swung open to reveal a Nightsister clad in all her finery: the real one. Muffin gaped at the doppelganger, as did most of Security. Ventress took that opportunity, grabbing him by the scruff of his tux and hauling him through the milling crowd and down a side corridor, ignoring the shouts of indignant guests and angry security men.

Muffin found his feet after the first turn. She released her grip, urging him in front of her. He was no fighter this one, not with that frame. Blaster fire started behind them, the laser bolts pinging off the marble walls. The mansion seemed endless, corridor after corridor filled with expensive artefacts on pedestals and artistic fripperies. Ventress sped past it all, Noisy Cricket in hand, Muffin panting in front of her as he ran. She had to hand it to him, Muffin kept his head, heading unerringly for the corner of the building where their speeder would be waiting for them in an alleyway.

They rounded a corner and suddenly there were black figures in front of them. Ventress tackled Muffin into a side room just as Security opened fire. She blasted the door panel, taking care this time to brace herself for the Cricket’s recoil. That should buy them a few minutes.

“Still got the chip?” she asked.

He nodded, holding up that precious scrap of plastoid. Ventress took it, tucking it into the compartment in her broach. Loud thuds started up outside as Security tried to force the door.

She looked around. They were in a kitchen of some type, cooking utensils hanging from the walls above the stoves, sinks and faucets on the far wall. The bench closest to them looked like it was set up for the morning meal, a number of snazzy looking toasters atop it. Ventress got an idea. With a single Force gesture, she ripped the gas line out from the stoves. Tibanna gas started hissing into the room.

“What are you doing?” Muffin said, horrified. “That stuff’s flammable.”

Ventress smirked. “That is the idea.” She hurled a stool at the window, but it bounced right back at her. _Right, toughened glass._ She scowled at the recalcitrant pane.

Muffin pried the data reader off his wrist and crossed to the window. A thin blue laser appeared and within seconds, Muffin was pushing a person-sized piece of glass into the shrubbery two floors below. “Now let’s get out of here.”

“A moment.” Ventress hunted for something flammable.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, already half out of the window. The speeder hung obediently beside him.

“Buying us some time. If I can find a magazine or something, I can use it as a fuse in the toaster,” Ventress explained as she rifled through drawers.

Muffin didn’t come over and start helping like she thought he might. Instead, he pried off a shoe.

“What are you doing?” She stared at him.

He cracked open the heel, showing her a fistful of miniature thermal detonators. “How much of a delay do you want?”

“Ten seconds.”

“Done. Let’s go.”

They tumbled into the speeder and Muffin gunned it. A huge explosion erupted behind them. Anyone in that room wasn’t going to be coming after them anytime soon. Sadly, the three black flitters pursuing them didn’t seem to get the hint that they didn’t want company. They screamed after Muffin and Asajj and there was a bright flash as they opened fire, the rounds heading right for Muffin.

Ventress lunged, dragging her spindly companion down just as blaster fire ripped through the space his head had been a moment ago.

“Hey!” He protested weakly from the speeder’s footwell. “I’m flying here!”

“Fly faster,” she gritted out. “They’re gaining on us.”

His face was white, but he nodded and adjusted those absurd glasses of his. He didn’t so much as slow down, gunning the speeder’s engines.

He caught her look and tapped one of the lenses. “Cameras in the front of the speeder.” His pride at his gadgetry shone even through his fear. He continued wending their way through the air traffic at ridiculous speeds, all the while not glancing in front of them.

Ventress popped up and snapped off a few shots at the sinister, black flitters pursuing them. One of them swerved down a side alley and collided with a building, a fireball rising in the rapidly receding distance. Ventress grinned. _And here I thought working for the Republic was going to be no fun._ In spite of what she’d told Skywalker’s little pet, there was something satisfying about knowing your enemy wasn’t going to be getting back up anytime soon. Being shot at also tended to bring out her bad side.

As she watched, one of burly figures in the flitters began to stand up, no doubt trying to get into a firing position. Ventress kept up her smirk as she aimed, then squeezed the trigger. _Click_. She yanked on the trigger again, but nothing. The Kerkoidian brought up his gun and she dove for cover just in time.

“Something is wrong with this blaster, Muffin,” she snarled.

“Power pack is probably drained,” he said as he yanked on the steering yoke. The speeder tilted alarmingly as it zipped round a corner, making Ventress’s stomach churn.

She tossed the useless blaster to one side, a not-insignificant feat in the cramped space. “This is why I should’ve brought my lightsabers,” she griped.

“We’ve been over this,” Muffin yelled over the din of protesting horns from the traffic around them. “They didn’t fit in with your cover. But in any case, I made plans—“

He broke off, whipping the speeder suddenly onto its side to fit down a narrow alleyway. Ventress’s heart squeezed, icy adrenaline surging, but then they were out of the small space. She didn’t have time to relax though, because Muffin sent them into a barrel roll. The useless blaster clipped her cheek as it went flying out into the street.

She gripped the upholstery tighter, frustrated by her stomach’s weakness. “Warn me next time!”

Muffin didn’t even look at her, intent on whatever he saw in those lenses. “Sorry. We’re five minutes away from the extraction point. The men are warming up the ship as we speak.”

Blaster fire zinged around them: more than one blaster too. Apparently, the Kerkodian’s friends had followed his lead. The speeder lurched, sparks flying as a stray round hit a sensitive spot.

“In my cane. Twist the top clockwise a quarter turn, then anti-clockwise for a full turn, then hit the stone on the top,” he yelled.

Ventress seized the wooden cane that Muffin had been so proud of in his role as her lackey and did as he said. The wood split open to reveal two familiar, curved hilts. Ventress thumbed them on and scarlet blades sprang to life. Enough of being passively shot at. It was time to go on the offensive.

Ventress rose from the speeder, a dervish clad in red and grey, two crimson blades in hand.

She batted away the first few laser rounds with her newly-lit ‘sabers, deflecting them away from everyone. Then she reconsidered and started returning the blaster fire to sender. Most of the goons ducked down under her barrage and Muffin took advantage of the lull to open the gap. There were two black flitters still after them though—two too many.

“Three minutes,” Muffin yelled. “We’ve got to shake ‘em!”

They must be coming up on the spaceport. She considered her options for an instant, cocking her head to one side even as she stepped out of the way of a streak of red laser fire. Then she hurled her ‘saber.

It caught the flitter right down the middle, carving it in two like so much flimsy. One half spun away and hit the side of a building. The other hit the remaining flitter dead on and disappeared in a ball of flames. Ventress tugged with the Force and caught her ‘saber cleanly as it flew back to her. With a snap-hiss, she extinguished both blades.

“All done.” She dropped neatly back into the seat beside Muffin, who was still steering from the safety of the footwell. “You can come up now.”

He popped up, hair sticking up in all directions. “They’re gone?”

“They had to split.” She couldn’t help it.

He groaned. “That’s terrible, you know that?”

“Perhaps.”

“There it is.” The drab grey monolith of the spaceport rose in front of them. Muffin zipped towards their berth. The familiar whine of engines greeted them as they drove up the ramp and onto the ship. They hit hard, even with the cargo nets out to cushion the impact. They broke atmo without incident and the ship jumped away, heading for Republic space.

Still sitting in the speeder as blurred stars streaked past the view ports, Muffin laughed. “We did it!”

Ventress retrieved the chip from its hiding place. “You’ve got the chip. Now I want my money.”

He looked hurt. As though this were something more than a business transaction. She thrust away a twinge of guilt.

“It’ll be waiting for you when we dock on Coruscant,” he said.

“Good.” Ventress handed over the chip and hopped out of the speeder.

“You could stay, you know,” Muffin offered. “Get a job with the agency. Maybe even do this thing full-time.”

She paused in the hatchway. “I’m not an employee-type. But you know my com number should something come up.”

“It’s a date then,” Muffin called after her.

Ventress kept walking, but a tiny smile crossed her face. It _would_ be good to see more of her Studly Muffin. Something to look forward

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has nods to Bond (ridiculous names, tuxedos, schmoozy gatherings, car/speeder chases and Ventress’s “they had to split” line), Men in Black (Z and the Noisy Cricket gun), and Bourne (magazine in toaster explosion). I think I had as much fun subverting spy fiction tropes (like the shoe phone and bottomless magazines) as I did including them!


End file.
